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King Of Da South Lyrics

Artist: T.I.
Album: Trap Muzik

Since when?Since menace to societyStill refused to become a legitimate citizen quietlyFelt like my labor hidin' meBut here I am anywayI might be back to slangin' grams any dayAnd if this record flopWell I'll be--backWit' a bomb of heartWit' C-Rod and the squadThis whole industry's a faÃ§adeMan this ain't real lifeHalf these rappers don't know what sacrifice feel likeMan these niggaz is all hypeNot even rappin' on real micsThey just get high and say whatever the fuck they feel likeThey make me feel like bustin' these niggaz one at a timeAnd I'm still outbustin' these niggazHoe pick a rhyme

[Chorus]Ay, what these other niggaz talkin'I don't believe that shitI'm the king 'cause I said itAnd I mean that shitAy, what's so special 'bout himAy, he ain't all that shitI set the city in fireHave you seen that shit?Ay, what these other niggaz talkin'I don't believe that shitI'm the king 'cause I said itAnd I mean that shitAy, what's the big deal about him?He ain't even that shitI set the city on fireHave you seen that shit?

[Verse Two]It's only five rappers outta Atlanta who bustin'And I'm one of 'emThe other four, you know who you areBut if you gotta think twiceWell shawty you ain't niceRegardless of your publishing dealYou can't writeI'm the best thing left blowin' breath on the micThe king of the southNothin' else will sufficeYou wanna bet?Well put yo' budget upMatch the priceMe and you like putting matches to iceYou won't make itBefore I had a dealI was still butt nakedGod signed this, like keeping' the Lord's promiseThe truth niggaLike Beenie's first LPYou can do a song with N'SyncAnd couldn't outsell meI'm a legend in my own timeA prophet in my own rhymesA king wit' a concubine

[Chorus]

Niggaz like you, a dime a dozenThey come and goSo why I'm runnin' nowAnd I ain't never run beforeGrab choppers, cock 'em and blowStoppin' the showBet or owe 'em, droppin' the hoesYou just keep watchin' the doorPop 'em, watch 'em drop to the floorFluff his pockets and goPut a quarter block on his noseAnd a glock in his clothesHe can keep his watches and goldFor his momma to holdShe'll be there buyin' the hoesBefore the drama unfoldsThey know shawty outta controlGot me hot as a stovePuttin' holes in yo' GirbaudWettin' up yo' polos44's and Callico'sa black and a chromelettin' loose and splackin' your domehoppin' back in the Broughamknown for kickin' in yo' doorwavin' gats in yo' homeclearin' it outI'm sorry I ain't hearin' you outYou hearin' aboutThe squad pumpin' Fe in your heartBecause you know sacrificeWas near and dear to your heart